


the do's and don'ts of entrepreneurship

by griefhoney



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Feelings Realization, M/M, Pet Stealing, Questionable Business Models
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-04-28 14:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griefhoney/pseuds/griefhoney
Summary: changmin has a (bad) idea. yunho is a bit of a pushover.





	1. Chapter 1

There's something awfully depressing about eating lukewarm ramyun straight out of the pot.

It's even more depressing with the knowledge that this is only a thing that is _actually happening_ in real life because the last useable bowl was smashed to pieces only a day earlier. 

Changmin says it was an accident but Yunho's honestly never seen an elbow look more purposeful and vicious. 

"It was an accident," Changmin mutters, eyeing the pot with a feverish kind of intensity. 

Yunho pushes it across the table, chopsticks and all. "I know." 

 

***

 

"What do you think they'll cut off first?" Changmin asks, one rainy Saturday afternoon. 

They're sitting in semi-darkness, the oppressingly grey light of dusk dripping through the windows with more chill than actual light. Changmin is sat at the coffee table, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a whole stationary store's worth of paper and pens spread out in front of him.

The heating's been off for months and Yunho doesn't dare try and see if it still works. It probably doesn't. 

Hunched over his laptop Yunho makes a non-committal sound. The light from the windows doesn't reach far enough into the room and his eyes kind of hurt. 

"I hope it isn't the water." 

Yunho glances up at this. Changmin's peering up at the rain-splattered windows, hair haloed oddly against the dying light. 

"Why?" His voice is hoarse with cold and Changmin shrugs. 

He tugs the blanket tighter around his shoulders and says, "Water is a human right. I think." 

Their gazes drift to the piles of unopened, threatening envelopes at the far end of the coffee table, half-hidden under Changmin's extensive piles of notes for whatever classes he's taking.

"Not if you can't pay bills," Yunho says flatly and returns to his laptop. 

 

***

 

"They haven't shut anything off yet," is the first thing Changmin says when he comes through the door, drenched and smelling like vegetable oil and stress. 

Yunho wordlessly gestures to where the microwave had once stood. 

Changmin blinks, arms angled awkwardly, half out of his sodden jacket. 

"I sold the microwave," Yunho supplies when Changmin continues to stare blankly. 

"The _microwave_ ," Changmin echoes. 

"And most of my clothes," Yunho adds with a rueful smile. "And some old books and stuff." 

" _Your clothes_." 

Yunho shrugs. "I sorta paid this month's rent, though. So it's okay." 

Changmin kicks off his shoes and stalks into the room. Yunho stares at the haphazard muddy trainers and the marks they've left on the floor until Changmin whirls around to rearrange them and wipe the mud off the floor. 

"What are you gonna wear?" He asks, sitting down opposite Yunho. He's still soaked, and Yunho distractedly traces a water droplet running down the column of his throat. It disappears under the collar of Changmin's work uniform and he looks away. 

"The stuff I have left."

A muscle in Changmin's jaw twitches. "And what," he grits out, "is that." 

"I mostly kept underwear," Yunho says, weirdly embarrassed. 

A pause stretches out between them. Yunho, cheeks warm, drops his gaze down to his laptop screen which dims obstinately, giving him no other option than to meet Changmin's gaze. It's like standing in the full glare of a searchlight and he shifts uncomfortably until Changmin finally speaks. 

"Are you cold?" 

Yunho starts. "What?"

"Cold, hyung. Are you cold." 

Yunho's only wearing a threadbare T-Shirt and jeans. His feet are bare and numb. 

But Changmin's still soaked, hair dripping water down his face and onto the kitchen table. 

He shrugs. "Aren't you?" 

The chair scrapes loudly through the silence as Changmin gets up and stalks deeper into the tiny apartment. Yunho stares for a couple of seconds before jerking his thumb across the touchpad of his laptop and the screen lights up again. The half-finished word document does nothing to distract him from the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. 

Three minutes and 39 seconds later something large, warm and soft hits him in the face, almost making him topple off his chair. A smaller but equally as soft something hits him in the throat seconds later. 

"Wha--" he manages, pulling the soft something off his head. The other, smaller fuzzy ball hits the floor with a soft  _thump_ and Yunho stares at the expensive pair of woolly socks Changmin's mother had gotten him for Christmas. 

In his lap, the faded logo of Changmin's old high school stares up at him.

"Is this--" he starts, confused. 

The hoodie is stretched out and floppy and huge and  _fuzzy_. Yunho's hair buzzes with static and he glances up at Changmin who's glaring at him.

He's still soaked, shirt clinging to the lines of his body and the hair above his ears is curling slightly. 

Yunho shivers, maybe not for the right reasons. 

"You'll catch a cold," they say at the same time. 

 

***

 

The note pinned to the apartment door informs Yunho that they have a month to scrape the rent money together or they're getting kicked out.  

It's fine. Thirty days is plenty of time. 

It's  _fine_. 

 

"We're fucked," Changmin says conversationally when Yunho enters the dimly lit apartment. 

"How so?" 

Changmin looks up from where he's sprawled on their tiny, threadbare couch, long legs dangling off the side. "We're getting  _evicted_ ," he says like the word tastes like acid and kicks his legs up for emphasis. 

"We have a month," Yunho replies, voice stubbornly calm even when his stomach twists and writhes. 

"Yeah, a month to figure out how we're going to stay off the streets." 

Yunho pauses, bent double in the effort of peeling his feet out of his sopping wet shoes. "We'll be fine." 

Changmin snorts. "How optimistic of you."

But he still climbs over the back of the couch to fetch Yunho dry clothes and some newspaper for his shoes. 

 

"You could always just move back in with your parents," Yunho tries over dinner, pushing the pot of ramyun towards Changmin. 

He's wearing Changmin's high school pullover again, which honestly should feel weirder than it does, and Changmin's socks which  _does_ feel weird because they don't fit properly. 

"Hyung, I'm not _leaving_ you," Changmin half-snarls and pushes the pot back. 

Yunho's chest hurts.

"Okay." 

 

He tries again when they're both getting ready to sleep. 

Yunho sits down on the bedroll and peers up at Changmin sprawled out on the bed that Yunho's parents bought him for Christmas. One of his hands is dangling off the side, right in front Yunho's face and he fixates on it, mustering up the courage to break the silence. 

"Your parents live in the city, Changmin. It would make sense," he says to the sharply protruding bone of Changmin's wrist. 

He doesn't really know why he's pushing this. He doesn't want Changmin to leave. The thought alone makes his whole chest feel like it's gonna implode. But he wants to feel like he's giving Changmin an option, mostly just to make himself feel a bit better and less clingy and codependent. 

The concentrated mass of shadows that is Changmin shifts and Yunho's heart lurches somewhere up into his throat. 

" _No_."

And that's that. 

Yunho sleeps better than he'd like to admit. 

 

***

 

When Yunho comes home from an especially tiring 9-hour shift at the local, tourist-orientated Japanese restaurant he finds a fresh pile of menacing letters on the doormat. Some are bright red, others just have a scary red stamp on the front next to the address. 

He tucks them under his arm and unlocks the apartment door, dropping the letters down by the neat square of space where Changmin's shoes go. He'll know where to put them. 

It's still relatively early in the evening and Yunho listlessly potters around in their barren kitchen for a while before caving and taking the quickest, coldest shower he's ever had. He puts on underwear that's probably his and a hoodie and sweatpants that are probably Changmin's.

He then passes out on the couch and wakes up to Changmin sitting on his ankles. 

"What time is it?" He asks groggily, trying to sit up, but Changmin pushes him back down with an impatient shove. 

"Witching hour," Changmin says, grinning and gesturing at the moon shining through their curtainless windows. 

Yunho tries to sit up again and his neck cracks in protest. "It's 3 AM?" 

"No," Changmin corrects slowly, hand still planted firmly on Yunho's chest, "it's midnight." 

"I thought witching hour was 3 AM." 

Huffing, Changmin digs out his phone. There's a pause and Yunho gingerly tries to prop himself up on his elbows, Changmin's hand is still on his chest and he's valiantly trying not to think about it. Which is hard because his fingers are digging into the material, which is way thinner than Yunho remembers it being and he can feel Changmin's nails digging into his skin and he's about to  _implode_ \--

"Ah shit, you're right," Changmin mutters and drops his phone on the coffee table.

"Of course," Yunho croaks, reaching up to pry Changmin's hand away from his chest, "I am."  

Changmin gets up and Yunho barely has time to mourn the loss of his additional warmth when he's being unceremoniously shoved into one corner of the couch so that Changmin can sprawl out next to him. 

"You always hog the couch," he complains, stretching his legs out under the coffee table. 

Yunho glares. "You weren't home," he protests, a bit half-heartedly. 

Changmin waves his protest away and changes the subject. "Are those my clothes?" 

Yunho glances down at himself, surprised. "You said I could--"

"I know, I know. I was just, ah, making sure." 

"Who else would I borrow clothes from?" Yunho asks. 

" _No one_ ," Changmin says and Yunho tries not to read into his tone too much and blames the shiver on the cold. 

An uncomfortable sort of silence falls between them and Yunho fiddles with a loose thread on his hoodie, decidedly ignoring the way Changmin's gaze is boring into the side of his head. 

"Any particular reason as to why you woke me up?" Yunho finally asks, turning to look at Changmin who visibly relaxes into the couch. 

"Forgot," he grins somewhat sheepishly and Yunho kicks him in the stomach. 

 

***

 

" _We should sell our hair_ ," Changmin hisses excitedly, toppling into the passenger seat in a flurry of raindrops. 

It's Thursday and it's raining. Thursdays are the days where Yunho makes the detour past Changmin's university to pick him up, no one consciously arranged this it just sort of...happened and then it ended up becoming routine. Yunho sitting in his Toyota that had once belonged to his parents, in a 15-minute parking spot watching the minutes tick by with left-overs from the restaurant cooling in the backseat. 

Yunho gives his brain a couple of seconds to catch up before saying, slowly, "We should-- we should  _what_." 

"Hair," Changmin pants, fumbling for the seatbelt, "we should sell our hair." 

"I-- I don't--"

"Chop it off and sell it."

Yunho's hand is frozen in the air, half-way to the key stuck in the ignition. "I'm still lost," he finally says and Changmin pulls a sigh from deep inside his chest. 

"A girl in one of my classes shaved her head and sold her hair for, like, 200 US dollars. I don't know what that is in regular money but it sounds like a lot." 

Yunho curses under his breath and his fingers find the key and twist it in the ignition, the engine coughs to life but the car stays put. "You want to shave off your hair? All of it?"

Changmin gives him a look. "I don't want to live on the streets hyung."

"That's," Yunho struggles for a second, "fair, I guess." 

Leaning back in his seat Changmin grins, satisfied. "Right? And anyway you would be doing it too, so it's okay." 

Yunho's foot slams down on the gas pedal. "I _will_?" 

Another look. "Won't you?" Changmin asks slowly, tone tilted in that wheedling way that used to get them in all sorts of trouble when they were younger. 

Yunho tightens his grip on the steering wheel and concentrates on getting them out of the parking spot without property damage. Changmin is still staring at him, he can feel it. 

"Let's look into it first," he finally says when they've successfully merged with traffic. Beside him, Changmin stretches knees knocking into the dashboard and one elbow barely missing the side of Yunho's head. 

"Whatever you say, hyung," he says grinning and extending his arm to its full capacity to give Yunho a very patronizing pat on the head. 

 

"See, I told you," Yunho says triumphantly, slamming the laptop shut. 

"You don't get to say that," Changmin protests.

"I knew, though." 

They're sitting at the kitchen table, barefoot but still in their raincoats. Changmin is slumped in his chair, arms crossed and legs stretched into Yunho's personal space. "You didn't know," he says, nudging Yunho's ankle with an icy toe. 

"I had a feeling--" Yunho starts.

"Not the same thing."

"--that our hair would be too short, and hey look, I was right."

Changmin pulls a face. "It's not  _that_ short." 

"Obviously it's too short though." 

There's a pause as Changmin glares at the closed laptop like it had personally offended him, Yunho makes to get up and put the left-overs in the kitchen but Changmin hooks his foot around his ankle and yanks him back into his chair. 

"We could grow our hair out," he says and Yunho rolls his eyes. 

"We'll be living on the streets by then." 

"Your hair grows fast," Changmin counters, foot still hooked around Yunho's ankle. 

Self-consciously Yunho reaches up to tug at the slightly overgrown strands hanging in his eyes and Changmin makes a frustrated little noise in the back of his throat. "It's a compliment hyung. It looks fine." 

Yunho drops his hand back into his lap, frustrated and oddly warm. "No one is chopping or growing out their hair."

Changmin eyes him for a second before abruptly pulling his legs back under his own chair. "Fine," he says with all the petulance of a bratty 3-year-old. 

 

"We could sell your car," Changmin says at one o'clock in the morning, framed in the doorway to the bathroom sweatpants riding low on his hips and toothpaste dripping down his chin and onto his bare chest. 

Yunho turns over on his bedroll only to turn right back onto his stomach, eyes tightly shut but the image of Changmin's bare torso imprinted on the back of his eyelids. "What?" He says, cheek squished in his pillow. 

"We could sell your car," Changmin repeats, speech distorted by the toothbrush in his mouth. "You know, for money." 

Fighting the urge to roll over Yunho says, "It's a Toyota." 

"Yeah? So?"

"A Toyota Corolla 2005." 

He interprets Changmin's silence correctly and says, "I could leave that car in the worst neighbourhood there is with the doors unlocked and the key in the ignition and still no one would take it."

Behind him, Changmin resumes brushing his teeth. "It's not  _that_ bad," he argues vaguely and Yunho can practically feel the stomach ache he's going to have from swallowing all that toothpaste. 

"It is though," he says and punches his pillow into a more comfortable shape. 

He can feel the weight of Changmin's gaze on the back of his neck and it takes a great deal of self-restraint not to cave and turn around. The air clears somewhat when Changmin disappears back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

 

***

 

"I have a better idea than the hair one," Changmin says, one mild Sunday afternoon, leaping over the back of the couch to land partly on top of Yunho and his laptop. A few seconds go by as he rearranges himself, sprawled over 3/4 of the couch with his feet in Yunho's lap. They watch mutely as a whole page fills up with A's until Changmin shifts his foot off the A key. 

"Better than the car one too?" Yunho asks, skeptical. 

"Depends," Changmin shrugs.

Yunho doesn't like the sound of that. He says as much and gets the heel of Changmin's left foot shoved under his ribs. 

"So what is this idea? 

Changmin wiggles into a more comfortable position and grins. Yunho's stomach turns over, for two, completely separate reasons. One is dread (very justifiable dread) and the other has more to do with what Changmin's eyes and nose do when he smiles. 

"So you know Kyuhyun right?" 

Yunho makes a noise somewhere between non-committal and pained and Changmin's grin widens. 

"So he has some friends on the internet and in real life, you know, and he obviously knows how we're doing right now--"

"Wait how is  _he_ not broke too?" Yunho interrupts, brow furrowed. 

Changmin flaps a hand. "He's catfishing some guy as far as I know," he says and ignores when Yunho chokes on air, "but that doesn't matter right now, because like I said he has  _friends_ in  _places_." 

"Does he?" Yunho croaks, narrowing watering eyes at Changmin who ignores that too. 

"And he proposed this thing to me last night," he pauses, eyes bright, "do you know what I'm getting at?"

Yunho squints at Changmin's grinning face. "Prostitution?" 

It's Changmin's turn to choke on air. "How'd you  _know_?"

Trying and failing to extract himself from Changmin's still flailing feet Yunho says, "Your face looked like what it looks like when you two try to talk about whatever weird stuff you've found on the internet with me in the room." 

A flush blooms in Changmin's cheeks and Yunho feels more accomplished than he has the entire week. 

"I don't have a face for that," he protests, indignant. 

"You have a face for everything." 

Spluttering and still a bit red Changmin pulls his feet out of Yunho's lap and folds them awkwardly in the limited space, Yunho watches on a grin of his own tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

"So what about prostitution?" He asks once Changmin's coughing fit has worn off. 

"Well not prostitution per se, since that's like illegal or something but, like, stripping? I think? We were a bit drunk."

Yunho gives a very flat stare. "Definitely better than the car idea." 

Changmin ignores him. "Wait, burlesque dancing is kind of like stripping, right?" 

"But you can't dance." 

One of Changmin's feet lashes out and almost knocks Yunho's laptop to the floor. "I can learn," he protests. 

"Between classes and work and your weird insistence on working out?"

"It's doable." 

Yunho levels him with a glare and says, "I'm not carting you off to your parents or the hospital because you worked yourself half to death." 

Changmin meets his gaze like it's a challenge and a few uncomfortable seconds pass until Yunho speaks up again, tone purposefully light. "Either way, one of the guys at work once said I could be an exotic dancer so if any of us does this, it would be me." 

It was one of the strangest conversations Yunho's ever had to suffer through and he'd ended his day feeling weirdly proud. 

The lightness of his tone hits deaf ears, however, as Changmin's expression turns stony. "Who?" 

Yunho can feel the temperature in the room dropping and forces himself to keep his tone light, eyes trained at a spot just to the left of Changmin's head. "Just some part-timer. A bunch of customers popped over from that club across the street, that's how we got on the subject." 

"Well, you're not doing it," Changmin says, jaw clenched. 

"I'm not?" 

"No." 

Yunho finds Changmin's gaze and holds it. "I won't if you don't." 

Something indiscernible shifts in Changmin's expression and he shrugs. "Wouldn't dream of it."

 

***

 

"Hyung. Hyung.  _Yunho_."

Yunho wakes up with a start, Changmin's outstretched hand mere millimeters away from his face. 

"Did you just  _hit_ me," he croaks, offended. 

Changmin rolls closer to the edge of the bed, arm dangling off and fingers grazing the cold, hardwood floor. He's grinning and in the bleary half-light of, Yunho checks his phone, fuck, 3 AM it looks vaguely unnerving. 

"I've had an idea." 

Yunho groans and throws an arm over his eyes. "Not again." 

Changmin reaches forward and yanks his arm away, fingers tight around his wrist and grin slightly manic. "No, no. You have to listen." 

"It's three o'clock in the morning I have to get up in one hour, Changmin please." 

"Just  _listen_." 

Yunho listens. 

It's a horrible idea.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (93 years later and she finally updates)
> 
> also this is disproportionately long compared to the other part lmao

"We can't just _steal_ people's pets," Yunho says over breakfast, jabbing a pair of chopsticks at Changmin who rolls his eyes.

It's half past three in the morning and they're sitting at the kitchen table in their pajamas. Yunho's skin feels paper thin but Changmin, for once, looks like he's about to burst with energy.

It really is too early for this kind of shit.

"But we can," he says through a mouthful of rice.

Yunho stares at him. "Yes, I know we _can_ it's just that it's _illegal_. That's stealing, Changmin."

"We'd give the pets back once a reward's been announced. So it's not. Technically."

It's bad because Yunho can see the logic behind it, can see how it would work and hey, maybe it's just because it's half past three in the fucking morning and he's tired and because it's Changmin posing this mad, harebrained idea that it doesn't seem...so bad.

"But-- but what would we even do with a dog? Or a cat, or whatever the hell."

"Look, the rewards for lost pets normally get put up within, like, two days--"

"Did you _research_ this?"

"It's three o'clock in the morning, hyung, of course I didn't. I'm using common sense." 

Yunho sighs and gestures for him to continue. 

"So we'd only have to keep the animal for around 3 three days or something. We'd have to vary though so that it doesn't look too suspicious."

Yunho kind of wants to put his head in his hands but doesn't because it feels just a little too defeatist. He stares at Changmin instead, in all his 3 AM glory. 

There's a pause as Changmin chews and swallows a mouthful of rice. "Basically," he says, "we would take the dog or whatever, keep it until there's a reward and give it back within a week." 

Yunho pushes his unfinished plate towards Changmin. "Okay," he says slowly and runs a hand over his eyes, "okay, but how are we supposed to look after a pet for a week? We can't even afford food for ourselves." 

Changmin points his chopsticks at Yunho and a few sticky grains of rice go flying across the table. "I've thought about that," he says. 

"Really?" Yunho asks, half-exasperated half genuinely interested. 

"Remember when you saved that rich dude from getting flattened by a truck and he gave you his business card and said he owed you a favor?" 

There's a pause where Yunho just stares at Changmin, who keeps eating, seemingly unbothered. 

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" 

"That we cash in that favor by asking this rich dude to buy us pet related stuff? Because yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying." 

"Jesus fucking--" Yunho caves and puts his head in his hands. 

"Do you still have the business card?" 

Peaking through his fingers Yunho says, "Probably?" 

Changmin surveys him for a second, eyes unnaturally bright for half-past-three in the morning and then, hesitating slightly, pushes the now almost empty plate of rice back across the table. 

"You need to eat," he says. 

Yunho smiles into his hands. 

"Okay." 

 

***

 

Yunho is sitting on the front steps of their apartment building when Changmin rounds the corner at the far end of the street.

It's uncharacteristically warm, even with the sun setting, tinging the sky an odd shade between salmon and blue and distorting shadows into proportions more befitting for horror movies. 

There's a very pregnant cat lying on the warm concrete step beside him, stretched out with one white-furred paw possessively clawed into his thigh. 

Yunho's absentmindedly petting the sleeping cat's head when Changmin sits down on his other side, breath whooshing out of him with a heavy sigh. He's got his jacket folded over his bag and his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. 

It's really horribly attractive. 

"I looked up the pet policy for our building on the bus," Changmin says by way of a greeting, "and it turns out the crazy dog guy on the 4th floor isn't breaking any rules. Neither is the crazy cat lady in the apartment next door. And if there's any noise from our apartment we can blame it on them." 

Yunho lets out a soft, slightly disbelieving laugh and says, "Wow. You've really thought about this, haven't you?" 

Changmin shrugs and leans back on his hands, face turned up to the multi-colored sky. "Work was boring today."

"I still have the business card by the way," Yunho says after a short pause. The cat opens one moss green eye and blinks, claws flexing in an almost affectionate way. "I meant to text you earlier today but my phone ran out of battery," he continues, fingers threading through the cat's soft fur as she clambers into his lap. 

Squinting up at the sky Changmin says, "Really? Can I see?" 

Yunho hands him his bag and Changmin pulls his wallet out with a kind of ease indicating that he isn't exactly a stranger to going through Yunho's bag. 

He surveys the little grey card with a frown. 

"I think we can walk there," he finally declares, holding out the card for Yunho to look. 

"You think? We could maybe risk one trip with the bus." 

Changmin shakes his head, hand still outstretched. "We can make a day out of it," he says. 

"We don't exactly have an abundance of days and anyway," Yunho reaches up to take the card and their fingers brush, "what about your studies?"

In reply, Changmin shrugs a shrug modest enough to make Yunho smile and says, "I'm ahead, so it's okay." 

 

***

 

The gates of the weird pseudo-mansion look way,  _way_ more intimidating up close. 

"This is-- this is the dumbest thing I've ever done," Yunho says, staring up at the gates in abstract horror, "holy shit." 

Beside him, Changmin snorts unattractively. "That's debatable." 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying, I mean, you have done dumber shit than this."

Yunho stares at him. "I'm  _older_ than you," he protests somewhat lamely but Changmin just waves him off. 

"Like that matters." 

He has a point, but Yunho's not about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it so he turns away to peer at the elaborate doorbell system built into one of the stone pillars. 

Changmin sighs, loudly, "Do you want me to do it?" and Yunho presses a button at random. 

There's a very long and very ominous pause.

A cloud the size of a small country moves over the sun, leaving them in a muted kind of brightness that makes Changmin fidget. 

The intercom screeches to life and a tinny voice says, " _What do you want_?" 

They share a look and Changmin gestures for him to talk, eyes slightly wider than usual. 

"Uhm," Yunho starts, "we're here to speak with Mr. Kim?" 

" _Identify yourself_."

"Uh--" 

" _There's a camera to your right_." 

They squint up at the ugly goblin sculpture mounted on the pillar to their right. Changmin glares at it. Yunho waves. 

"Well, uhm, I'm Jung Yunho. Mr. Kim might remember me from that one time I, ah, got him out of the way of a moving truck? It was a while ago, but yeah." 

The intercom crackles and the cloud moves on, dipping them in a yellow glow that sticks to the back of their necks like drying paint.

Everything looks tackier in the brightness of mid-day and Yunho absentmindedly scrapes a nail against the peeling black varnish on the gate. 

" _And the other one_?" 

Yunho drops his hand back to his side. "This is," he halts, words momentarily failing him, "my friend. Shim Changmin." 

After a pause, he adds, "He's nice." 

The snort of laughter Changmin lets out makes a flush crawl up into Yunho's cheeks and he's pretty sure that that damn goblin is laughing at him too. 

" _I'm sure_ ," the intercom replies, tone dry. " _You can come in by the way. He remembers you._ " 

The gates rattle briefly and more peeling paint flutters onto the ground.

Changmin's suddenly very close, a hand closing down on Yunho's shoulder. 

"After you, hyung," he grins, eyes betraying a flicker of anxiety that the grip on Yunho's shoulder does not. 

 

***

 

Yunho wakes up the next day to Changmin building a fortress out of cat and dog food on the living room floor. 

He goes back to bed. 

 

***

 

It's an unusually hot day when Changmin comes home looking like he's seen the business end of a construction site. He pulls off his dust-covered shoes and walks over to the window to shake the worst of it onto the people on the street below. 

"How long have you been there?" He asks over the sound of the street outside. 

The question is directed at Yunho, who's spread-eagled on the comparatively cool linoleum floor between the couch and the kitchen table. 

"Ten minutes," Yunho replies, eyes closed. 

The smell of construction site and sweat comes closer and Changmin plops down on the floor next to him. He's emanating heat like a fucking furnace and Yunho groans and tries to roll away, but a combination of the heat and fatigue makes his limbs unresponsive. 

"Is it cooler down there?" 

Yunho opens one, accusatory eye. "It  _was_ , yeah." 

Grinning, Changmin leans back against one of the legs of the table. A bead of sweat is making its way down the side of his face and Yunho opens his other eye to look at him properly. 

"I've done some research by the way," he says. 

"Yeah?" 

"Most people take their dogs out for long walks in the morning before office hours start."

Changmin cocks his head. "So, like, before 8 AM?" 

"Yeah. That's when there aren't as many people around. The earlier the better, really." 

"That's," Changmin cocks his head even further, "convenient." 

A laugh bubbles up somewhere in Yunho's chest and he stretches, twisting his arms above his head. "Lot's of things are," he yawns. 

 

"We should do it the day after tomorrow," Yunho says from where he's rifling through Changmin's drawer for something sleep-appropriate to wear. 

The only light in the room is coming from Changmin's phone, blue and artificial, distorting his quizzical expression into something that looks more like a mask. 

"Why not tomorrow?" 

"You have a long day tomorrow. And so do I," he adds as an afterthought. 

Changmin shuffles closer to the end of the bed, all angles and shadows. "You know my schedule?" 

Yunho briefly considers being embarrassed, but Changmin's expression is teasing and almost  _hungry_ in a way, so he says, "And you don't know mine?" instead.

It's meant to fluster but Changmin stays perched at the foot of the bed, backlit and his face shrouded in darkness. "Of course I know yours, hyung," he says, voice drifting through the darkened room in a way that contrasting lights and shadows shouldn't really allow. 

"Ah," Yunho almost closes the drawer on his fingers, "well." 

He doesn't have a shirt. 

Changmin's staring at him, expression as contradicting as the light in the room. Affection and hunger. 

"The day after tomorrow then."

It feels like the room has shrunk to half its original size and Yunho nods, vocal cords numb. 

 

***

 

On the evening before the fateful 'day after tomorrow' someone in the building sets off the fire alarm. 

It's well and truly dark before the fire brigade arrives in a cacophony of noise and flashing lights. The kids from apartment 204 are crying and someone's kitchen may or may not be on fire. 

"This is fucking ridiculous," Changmin gripes, kicking a slipper-clad foot at the tire of an unassuming car. 

The residents of the building are pairing off, huddling in angry little groups under a sky so heavy and dark it almost feels claustrophobic. They've drifted further away from the rest, where the light from the street lamps and trucks doesn't quite reach. 

"Did you bring a jacket?" Yunho asks, shivering slightly in his hoodie, Changmin's university crest stamped across the front. 

Changmin holds up his phone, keys and a spare pair of slippers. 

Yunho sighs. 

"I was in a rush! I thought we were gonna die or something." 

"You thought to bring slippers when you're already wearing a pair, but not a jacket?" 

He only gets a muffled huff in reply and Changmin sits down on the curb, the worn out material of his T-Shirt stretching obscenely over the width of his back as he folds his arms around his knees.

"Well, what did you bring?" He asks, shoulders hunched in a sulk and Yunho stops staring. 

Sitting down next to Changmin he pulls a very tightly folded cardigan and an umbrella out of the front pocket of the hoodie. He hands the first to Changmin who snorts in disbelief. 

"This is a  _cardigan_." 

Yunho's seen him wear plenty of cardigans in the past and holds out his hand. "Give it back then." 

A fireman comes out of the lobby of the building and informs the crowd at large that 312's kitchen is indeed very much on fire and that they'll have to wait at least another 45 minutes. A groan rises up from the little groups scattered across the courtyard and parking lot and the wailing 2-year-old turns up the volume. 

Changmin puts on the cardigan. 

"We need a plan for tomorrow," Yunho says. 

"We do?" 

"If we're gonna do this we're gonna do it properly." 

They both look up at the same time when a soft drizzle starts drifting down from the sky.

It's still dark as anything but the pavement glints orange, red and blue and huddled under Yunho's umbrella, knees knocking together and arms linked it's not so bad. 

"I'll do the stealing," Changmin says. 

"I knew you'd say that." 

"Yeah?" 

Yunho smiles a the puddle forming at their feet. "Yeah." 

Changmin smiles too and says, "You're distracting, you'll be good at it. At distracting people, I mean."

The words settle over them like mist. 

"I'm distracting?" 

Maybe it's the dim, multi-colored lighting that makes it look like Changmin's face is going through several different, but equally as mortified expressions. Or maybe there's rain in his eyes. Or maybe Changmin's just genuinely mortified. 

"You know what I mean," Changmin says to Yunho's distorted reflection in the puddle. 

Yunho doesn't. Or maybe he does. 

 

*** 

 

" _And dog stealing mission one is a go_ ," Changmin says through the phone, voice tinny in Yunho's ear. 

"Are you in position?" Yunho asks, playing along. 

They're in a park in the area of their own apartment building. Yunho's standing behind a tree next to a path that winds its way through the entire park. Changmin's further down the path, probably hiding in a flower bed or something. 

The drizzle from last night had developed into a full downpour during the later hours of the night and now the ground is springy and wet, squelching noisily whenever Yunho so much as shifts his feet. 

" _Yes, sir_ ," Changmin resites dutifully. 

The sky poured out all its energy last night and now, in the half-hour before dawn, it's tinged a tired blue that looks one yawn away from being grey. 

" _Do you have your Gwangju accent at the ready_?"

"Of course," Yunho grins, dialect familiar on his tongue and Changmin laughs. 

In the distance, Yunho spots their target round the corner onto his stretch of the path. He's wearing a sun visor, which Yunho personally thinks is a bit presumptuous judging by the fact that the sun isn't even up yet. 

"Well," he mutters, "here goes nothing." 

" _Good luck, hyung_ ," Changmin says and the line cuts out. 

A blackbird sitting in a neighboring tree gives him a very filthy look and he sighs, stepping out onto the path and pulling a suitably confused frown onto his face. Naver Maps glitches a couple of times before locating him.

It's all a bit of a blur after that. 

The helpless tourist act works, however, accent masking the nerves twisting in his stomach and the man takes the bait. The little white dog trailing behind him is obviously more interested in the surrounding shrubs and trees than Yunho's make-believe troubles. 

He manages to angle himself just so that they're both standing with their backs to where Changmin is undoubtedly hiding, heads bent over Yunho's phone. The dog wanders off behind them, the leash wrapped around the kind man's wrist straining a little but he doesn't notice. 

And maybe Yunho speaks a little louder than necessary to mask any possible sounds and drags everything out for another ten minutes by asking about the subway and playing very,  _very_ dumb. 

The stranger is just getting into the many faults of the Seoul metro system when a message pops up on the screen, " _hyung I think I broke the rice cooker_ " which Yunho assumes is shitty code for " _I just successfully stole a dog_ ".

"Thank you so much for your help," he says, bowing and plastering a sheepish smile on his face, "but I should really get going before anything get's set on fire." 

He's walked exactly three steps down the path when a distressed shout tears through the quiet, early morning air.

"Koongie!"

 

"I've been sitting here for almost _half an hour_ ," Changmin complains the moment Yunho collapses in the driver's seat and lets his head thump against the steering wheel. 

"Half an hour," Yunho echoes weakly, lifting his head enough to peer at the white pile of fur in Changmin's lap. "I had to help him look for the dog," he explains. 

"For half an hour?" 

"It's a big park and he was very, uh, _distressed_ , so yeah. Half an hour."

Changmin beams and the dog yaps experimentally, straining in his arms to get closer to Yunho. 

"I can't believe this worked," he says softly, reaching out a hand for the dog to snuffle at. 

"You know," Changmin says, "I think if we weren't good, law-abiding citizens we'd be really good criminals." 

"Maybe we will be one day," Yunho grins and lifts the dog out of Changmin's lap, "maybe this is just the beginning of our turbulent criminal careers." 

"That would be so fucking cool." 

Yunho lifts the dog up to eye level and it lunges forward to lick a broad stripe across the bridge of his nose. "What do you think," he squints at the collar, "Shimkung? Would we make good criminals?"

" _Shimkung_?" Changmin repeats, staring at the wriggly ball of fur in Yunho's arms. 

The dog - a girl - Yunho notes with a quick glance, twists towards Changmin at the sound of her name and Yunho laughs, dumping her back in his lap. 

A faded orange glow lights up the sky as the sun finally makes it past the horizon. Around them the city slowly rouses itself, lights flickering on in apartment windows and sidewalks slowly filling with grey faced commuters. 

"We should head back," Yunho says, squinting up at the steadily brightening sky. 

Changmin, who's currently trying to wrangle an overexcited Shimkung under his seatbelt, nods and then cringes when his stomach growls. Yunho's responds in turn and the dog tries to bury herself in Changmin's hoodie in search for the source of the noise. 

"I seriously cannot believe this worked," Changmin says once they're on the road and Shimkung's calmed down a little. "Like," he gestures wildly, "we  _stole_ a dog. We conned some random guy and stole his fucking-- his-- what _are_ you?" 

Shimkung barks helpfully and Changmin grins, just a little lovestruck. 

"Maltese, I think," Yunho says, taking a hand off the steering wheel to pet Shimkung but accidentally hitting Changmin in the face instead. 

Changmin curses and grabs his wrist, guiding it down to Shimkung who receives him enthusiastically, tail thumping against the car door. His fingers stay tightly wrapped around Yunho's wrist and maybe it's the sun scorching the sky and their surroundings a vibrant shade of red but Changmin looks a little more flushed than usual. 

Cheeks and insides burning, Yunho tries to focus on the road again. 

 

***

 

"Do you think I could eat dog food?" Changmin asks from the kitchen, head stuck in the fridge and Shimkung weaving in between his legs like a bad imitation of a cat. 

Yunho, who's sprawled out in a sunny patch on the floor with his laptop, chokes back a laugh and says, "How aren't you dead yet?" 

Changmin retracts his head out of the fridge, a tin of wet food in one hand and a jar of what are probably pickles in the other. "You're one to talk," he says, trying to dislodge Shimkung from where she's attempting to climb up his leg.

 

"Changmin. Changmin, hey.  _Hey_ , wake up."

There's no response and Yunho reaches up to pull at the arm dangling off the edge of the bed. He digs his nails into the warm skin of Changmin's wrist and  _pulls_ again, yanking him a couple of inches closer. 

Another tense second or two passes and then, "I will  _kill_ you, I swear to God." 

Yunho tugs at him again and Changmin's sleep-tousled head suddenly appears over the side of the bed, eyes half-shut and glinting in the faint light coming from the hall. He looks nothing short of murderous and Yunho grins sheepishly, the thought of letting go of Changmin's wrist not even entering his mind. 

"I can't sleep," he whispers into the darkness. 

Changmin tries to pull his hand away, curses falling from his lips and down onto the floor beside Yunho's head like droplets of water. 

"I don't  _care_ ," he hisses, voice rough and muddled with sleep. 

"The dog," Yunho says, grip tight and unrelenting, "the dog's on top of me, I can't  _breathe_." 

A moment passes as Changmin undoubtedly refocuses on the sleeping dog sat comfortably on Yunho's chest, blanket tangled around his legs and one hand caught awkwardly under her paws. 

Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm goes off, ringing through the humid night air with a piercing shriek. 

It jerks Yunho out of whatever half-asleep stupor he'd been in and he finally lets go of Changmin's arm, weirdly embarrassed but too tired to figure out why. 

"Just," the bed creaks as Changmin stretches out to swipe at Yunho's hair, "get up here." 

A silence folds out between them, as uncomfortable and heavy as the air outside. Changmin pulls his arm back up onto the bed, seemingly self-conscious but when Yunho finally looks up to meet his gaze he looks resolute. 

"The dog can have the bedroll." 

"You-- _what_?" 

"Get on the fucking bed, hyung." 

Yunho gets on the bed.

Shimkung doesn't make much of a fuss, just curls back up on his now abandoned blanket while he clambers awkwardly in the dark, limbs suddenly way too long.

"You hate sharing a bed," Yunho says, careful not to tread on Changmin's ankles. 

Changmin grunts something unintelligible and rolls closer to the wall so that Yunho can lie down. 

The last time Yunho remembers them sharing a bed had been in the early days of this apartment, and that was more like sharing floor space and naturally gravitating towards each other.  

Gingerly, his heart swollen to about three times its natural size and blood rushing in his ears Yunho lies down facing away from Changmin, arms curled protectively over his chest. 

He's most definitely making this more awkward than necessary but it's been a while and back then there hadn't been as many, well,  _feelings_ involved. Changmin's silence and the fact that he's a walking fucking furnace aren't helping matters either. 

The combination of all of these things makes the room feel like it's shrunk to the just the bed they're lying on. 

Outside the car alarm wails again and Yunho falls asleep feverish, his unconscious mind hyper-aware of the body steadily shifting closer as the night moves on. 

 

***

 

Yunho wakes up 7 minutes before his alarm is due to go off.

The humidity of the days before has given away to a chill that promises rain and too many grey days to count. Yunho knows this because the hand he's got hanging off the side of the bed is numb and stiff with cold. The rest of him, however, feels like it's just a couple of degrees away from bursting into flames. 

Changmin has plastered himself to his back, one arm wrapped possessively around Yunho's midriff. 

It takes a moment for his sleep-addled brain to notice Shimkung, who is comfortably stretched out in the very limited space between their legs. 

Flexing the icy fingers of his left hand Yunho reaches behind him, fingertips blindly grazing the tip of Changmin's nose where it's nestled just where his neck meets his shoulder. His breath is coming calm and steady and Yunho taps him sharply on the cheek, too used to Changmin's morning moods to bother being gentle. 

" _Hey_ ," he whispers, vocal cords barely cooperating, "hey, wake up." 

The arm around his waist tightens by a fraction and Yunho's other hand slips under the blanket in an admittedly rather half-hearted attempt to pry him off. 

"Wake up," he repeats, a little louder this time. 

His forefinger and thumb find purchase on Changmin's cheek and  _pinches_ , hard, twisting until a hoarse, " _Fuck_ ," hissed right in his ear makes him stop. 

"Are you awake?" 

Changmin groans, nose and lips brushing lightly against the back of Yunho's neck. "'m gonna kill you," he mumbles. 

"We need to get up," Yunho says, still only half-trying to get Changmin's grip to loosen. 

"Five minutes." 

That's when Yunho's alarm goes off, loud and shrill. Shimkung barks once and wriggles to life between them, tail thumping against Yunho's shin with a kind of enthusiasm generally unsuitable for 4 AM. 

"Fuck _off_ ," Changmin groans, breath fanning hot and damp across Yunho's neck and he manages to hide a shudder by elbowing Changmin in the ribs. 

" _Up_ ," he insists. 

"Five minutes. Please." 

Shimkung's prowling now, her white fur a washed out grey in the pale pre-dawn light. 

"What if," Yunho grits out, fighting a losing battle with the arm Changmin still has wrapped around his middle, "the dog needs to go out?"

"To do what, hyung?" Changmin yawns. 

Yunho tries to twist away, but Shimkung's added weight on his legs makes it almost impossible and he just ends up jabbing Changmin in the ribs again. "What do you think? Or do you want her to  _go potty_ on your bed?" 

He can feel Changmin's mouth narrow into a contemplative frown. "Guess not," he finally admits. 

"So?" 

"So? So you do it." 

"I would," Yunho says, "if you'd _let_ me." 

Changmin hums, lips quirking up into a small smile. "Nah." 

Yunho gives up. 

"Five minutes," he says, groping around for his phone. 

 

"So we have five days," Yunho says, "before rent money is due or we get kicked out." 

The rain coming down in icy sheets does nothing to lighten the cold, heavy weight that settles over them. The sentence sort of sits in the air for a while, letting the meaning sink in before getting washed down the drain like everything else. 

They're both taking the bus today, petrol prices have gone up and public transport, although less desirable, is a lot cheaper. 

The shadows under Changmin's eyes are the same color as the buildings around them. Or maybe it's the other way around, it's honestly hard to tell. Everything's sort of grey in the rain. 

"That went by quickly," Changmin says, tone as colorless and tired as the scenery around them. 

Yunho shrugs. "Time does that when you're poor." 

The little laugh Changmin gives that gets drowned out by a lorry and Shimkung pops her head out from where she'd been hiding in his backpack. 

"I'll go past that park area on my way home to see if any posters are up," Yunho says, scratching a panting Shimkung behind the ears. 

"Okay. I'll check if there's anything online. I think they have, like, forums for this kind of stuff or something." 

A pause.

Yunho leans back against the grimy bus stop wall and watches the rain paint patterns on the glass and pavement. 

"You sure your professors will be okay with you taking a dog to class?" 

Changmin shrugs and yawns, stretching his legs out from under the minimal safety of the bus stop shelter. "Someone brought a baby bird to class once and it was okay, and Shimkung's pretty well behaved so yeah, I think it should be alright." 

"The campus is pretty big you could take her for walks."

"Taking our stolen dog out for walks in between classes," Changmin grins, "sounds about right." 

In the distance, through the sleet grey sheets of rain, the washed out silhouette of a bus comes into view and Changmin starts getting to his feet. He steps out into the rain too soon and Yunho reaches out to pull him back. 

A middle-aged lady huddled in the other corner of the shelter and dressed in the same color palette as the weather gives them a funny look. 

Yunho drops his hand and Changmin stays out in the rain, watching the approaching bus with the kind of methodical intensity of someone trying not to think about something. 

 

***

 

It's nearing 11 o'clock at night and Yunho's wiping down fake marble countertops and stacking chairs when Changmin comes knocking on the locked restaurant door. 

Three days have passed already since they abducted Shimkung. 

Three days of sharing a bed and anxiety dreams that drain the color out of the world. 

"We should give her back tomorrow," Changmin says when Yunho lets him in, Shimkung trotting along behind him. 

Yunho closes the door quickly before the nighttime chill can creep in and stares at the sodden piece of paper Changmin hands him. 

"Where did you get this?" 

A color photograph of Shimkung covers nearly the entirety of the paper and her name is stamped in large bold letters at the top. 

Changmin, who's crouched on the floor with a happily panting Shimkung in his arms, shrugs. "I thought since you have a long shift today that I should maybe go and have a look for any posters."

"Huh," Yunho hums at a loss of anything else to say. He glances at the smaller print at the bottom of the page and a brief flash of guilt worms its way under his ribs. "Holy shit, he's offering ₩160 000." 

" _Yeah_ ," Changmin grins and then says to Shimkung, "Did you hear that? That's how much you're worth." 

Yunho crouches down as well, lifting her out of Changmin's arms to say, "Don't listen to him, Koongie. You're worth a lot more than that." 

"We should haggle when we bring her back." 

"We should not." 

 

***

 

They manage to last three and a half weeks before money starts running dangerously low again. 

Changmin comes home one day, drenched and with a stiff shoulder, dumps his bag on the couch and says, "We should go to a rich people neighborhood and steal  _two_ dogs." 

Yunho, thinking of their abundance of pet food and decided lack of human food in the fridge, agrees. 

 

***

 

The terrier Changmin steals from a little old lady who wears earrings the size of a baby's fist chews up Yunho's quilt, which ends up just being another excuse for Yunho to fall asleep in Changmin's bed instead of his bedroll. 

The terrier is also apparently worth ₩215 000.

The pile of threatening envelopes at the end of the coffee table shrinks and so does the nagging ache that normally accompanies Yunho wherever he goes. 

 

***

 

Two weeks after they release the nightmare terrier back to his mistress Changmin steals a pug from a girl Yunho swears he's seen in a Greek yogurt commercial. 

 

"What took so long this time?"

Yunho picks up the pug from where it's been drooling on the driver's seat and hands it back to Changmin who gives it's squashed face a very careful boop. 

"Ah," Yunho clears his throat and busies himself with getting his keys, "well, I helped her look for the dog and then she, uhm, asked me? On a date?" 

A silence that makes Yunho's skin itch fills the car. The pug, who is called  _Cherry_ according to her collar, barks nervously. 

"You went on a _date_?" 

Yunho unfreezes slightly. "I-- no, no. No, she asked me on a date but I turned her down."

" _Why_?" 

Both he and the dog flinch at the accusatory tone. 

"I, well, I have work and a dog now and you. And anyway," he soldiers through Changmin's oppressive silence, "I don't think I want to go on a date with a person who asks people out literally minutes after their dog disappears." 

After another moment or two of silence Cherry barks hopefully and Yunho digs a handful of dry food out of his jacket pocket. 

"I'm doing the distracting next time," Changmin finally says, cupping a hand under Cherry's squished chin to stop her from slobbering all over his jeans. 

"But you hate--" 

"I'm doing it." 

Yunho bites on his tongue and nods. "Alright." 

 

They're waiting in front of a red light when Changmin speaks up again, "Also that jacket's gonna have to go in the wash." 

"What? Why?" 

Changmin gives him a very flat stare and says, "Hyung, you can't just keep dry food in your pockets. You smell like a pet store." 

 

***

 

"She's not even that pretty," Changmin says when he comes through the front door a week later, dog-less and tired. 

"No?" 

He levels Yunho with a glare. "No." 

They stay like that for a minute or two, Changmin frozen in the entryway until Yunho gets bored and turns his attention back to his laptop. "How much was the dog worth?" He asks in an effort to break the silence that's starting to make the air feel like its burning. 

Changmin completely ignores his question. "Do you think she's pretty?" 

Yunho looks up, Changmin's still standing there the warm light from the windows barely brushing the tips of his shoes. 

"I--" Yunho starts, distantly aware of the ice cracking under his feet, "--she looked pretty in the commercial?" 

He watches Changmin's shoulders tense as he slips out of his shoes and takes a seat directly opposite him. "Must be photoshop then," he says unkindly and Yunho winces on her behalf. 

"Don't say things like that." 

"Do you think she's pretty?" 

Yunho meets his gaze with a scowl. The knuckles of Changmin's hands stand out like ivory against his skin and Yunho says, "Does it matter? Really?" 

A pause swells and then bursts between them and a rather self-satisfied smile spreads across Changmin's face and Yunho wonders what he said to provoke it. 

"I suppose not," Changmin finally replies, leaning back in his chair. 

 

***

 

They're sitting on a park bench in the grey semi-darkness of dawn when Changmin says, "You know what--" 

"Having second thoughts?" Yunho asks head tipped back to admire the watery grey sky.  

" _No_."

"No?" 

"Are you?" 

Yunho stretches and grins, a picture of a mind completely at ease.

Changmin scowls. 

 

***

 

The dog Yunho steals is a tiny, really, really  _tiny_  Dachshund called Olga who, in the two weeks that she stays with them, develops a fondness for Changmin's designated spot on the couch and the twins Yunho looks after every other Tuesday. 

Where Shimkung had been obedient, the terrier a nightmare and Cherry largely indifferent, this poor little thing seems positively delighted to be away from her owner.

 

"You know, the owner tried to ask me on a date," Changmin says one evening, Olga cuddled to his chest while he brushes his teeth. 

Yunho, still smarting from Changmin's slightly irrational behavior with Cherry, schools his face into an expression of mild interest and says, "Oh?" Pausing his folding of all their winter quilts to turn briefly and look up at Changmin. 

Changmin's grip on his toothbrush tightens somewhat but he forges ahead anyway, fuelled by the same kind of pettiness that's making Yunho's insides burn. "Yeah," he waits for Yunho's reaction but when there's nothing he adds, "she was pretty too. Like,  _really_ pretty. Definitely prettier than that commercial girl." 

The burning sensation spreads up into Yunho's chest. "So will you go on a date with her?" 

He turns back around just in time to see Changmin's eyes flash and maybe the burning in his lungs has everything and nothing to do with it. 

"I might." 

"Well, you better do it soon because I'm giving her back tomorrow, remember." 

"Right." 

Olga squirms out of Changmin's arms and darts towards Yunho. 

"Right." 

 

They drop Olga off together. 

Yunho sits in his 15-minute parking spot with the dog and left-overs in the backseat and the sun in his eyes. 

"Why does she look like that?" Is the first thing Changmin says when he gets in the car. 

He gestures at Olga who looks like she brought half a forest and a landslide with her into the car, which is quite impressive for such a tiny dog. 

"I thought I'd say I found her in a garden or a park somewhere and, well, she should look the part, shouldn't she?" 

"She's making the car dirty."

Yunho snorts. "Have you  _seen_ this car. You could deep clean it and it still wouldn't make a difference." 

Changmin's face flickers between unconvinced and resigned and they set off in a silence that could generally be described as comfortable. 

 

"You know you can't just leave me in a car without an air con-- did you  _run_?" 

Yunho slumps against the side of the car and nods, breath leaving him in short, unsteady bursts. 

Changmin, head stuck half out of his window, stares at him in disbelief. " _Why_? It's like a million degrees." 

"I," Yunho tries to steady his breathing, "didn't want to leave you in an overheated car and the left-overs might go ba-- oh, you're eating them."

Changmin blinks and then stares somewhat guiltily at the styrofoam containers in his lap. "I got hungry." 

"I was gone for 15 minutes," Yunho mutters, finally moving to get into the car. 

"That doesn't change the fact that I haven't eaten since this morning." 

He starts packing the things back up again but Yunho gestures for him to stop. "Eat. It's no big deal." 

There's a brief pause as Yunho tries to dig his keys out of his back pocket, hands sticky and clumsy with heat. Something small and white flutters next to the gearshift when he finally manages to get them out. 

Yunho doesn't notice until Changmin reaches for it. 

He maneuvers the car out of the parking spot and tries his very best to ignore how the leathery plastic of the steering wheel is burning the skin of his palms and how the temperature has dropped by several degrees even with the sun still making sweat cling to the back of his neck. 

"So," Changmin says, slowly, carefully, "what took so long?" 

Yunho focuses on the foreign number plate of the car in front of them and replies, just as carefully, "She was...surprisingly talkative."

Changmin waits, the food in his lap forgotten. 

"And then after she gave me the reward she invited me inside, I declined and she, uhm, ended up sort of giving me her number. So. Yeah," the words tumble out of Yunho's mouth like marbles. 

"And that's what that is," Changmin asks, tone still careful. It makes Yunho's skin itch in a way that has nothing to do with the sun. 

He gestures at the slip of paper clamped between the steering wheel and the palm of Yunho's right hand. 

"Yeah." 

"Can I see?" His tone is measured enough and Yunho hands it over. 

Yunho watches out of the corner of his eye as Changmin studies the hastily scribbled digits before crumpling it up in his fist and viciously tossing it out of his still open window into oncoming traffic. 

"Oops." 

 

***

 

Three dogs and a couple of paid bills later and Yunho impulse buys a cake. 

He's wandering around the apartment, freshly showered and maybe just a little sugar-high, cake in one hand and a spoon in the other when Changmin comes home. 

"Before you say anything," he says when Changmin freezes, eyes wide, "the cake was on offer and I've been very careful not to spread crumbs. You can look if you want." 

Changmin opens his mouth but Yunho cuts him off before he can even start to formulate a sentence. 

"And if you're gonna say something about me not eating at the table," he gestures at the kitchen table which is almost completely covered in loose pieces of paper, files, and notebooks, "I would, but I would honestly rather get cake on the floor than your notes." 

The pause that fills up the room makes Yunho very aware of the sugar humming through his veins. He can practically  _feel_ his heartbeat in his throat and wrists. 

"Are you-- are you wearing  _shorts_?"

Yunho blinks, surprised, and looks down at himself. "It's a warm day," he says, a little defensively. 

Changmin's still staring at his legs like he's never seen them before. 

Decidedly uncomfortable Yunho holds out the cake and spoon. "Cake?" 

"I'm gonna take a shower," Changmin says, completely ignoring the half-eaten cake in favor of stalking past Yunho at a speed that would make light envious. 

"But--"

" _Shower_." 

 

***

 

"Why am I the little spoon?" Yunho asks one night, curled on his side, legs tangled and with one of Changmin's arms like a vice around his waist. 

It's two o'clock in the morning and the whole apartment smells like washing powder and rain.

Or maybe that's just Changmin who had come home from the laundromat with a plastic bag full of damp laundry and latched onto Yunho the moment he collapsed on the bed with an unabashed ease born almost entirely out of sleep-deprivation. 

Changmin's fingers dig into the skin below his ribs hard enough to bruise. "Are you complaining?" He asks, voice hoarse and muffled against Yunho's neck. 

"No," Yunho replies, fatigue making him more honest than probably advisable. 

Changmin's mouth twitches up into a grin and maybe Yunho wants to burst into flames because of it. Maybe. 

"'m gonna complain though," he says after a few damp, sleepy minutes. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Hyung, you smell like a wet poodle." 

Yunho twists around a little, somehow finding the energy to be exasperated. "That might be," he says, "because of the wet poodle. That you brought to bed." 

The poodle in question is peacefully curled up where Changmin and Yunho's legs are tangled together. 

A pause. 

"Huh." 

Yunho snorts. 

"We should blow-dry the poodle," Changmin says, lips pressing against Yunho's neck in a way that's probably not by accident. 

"What would that even look like?" Yunho wonders, absentmindedly reaching around for his phone. 

"Really dumb probably." 

Yunho's hand stills. "We should blow-dry the poodle." 

"We  _should_."

 

***

 

The 9th dog they steal is a Yorkie called Koi, which Changmin immediately manages to point out is a dumb name for a dog. 

 

It's Friday evening and the streetlights are making the air hazy as rain falls with a ferocity that's almost apocalyptic. Indistinct, people-shaped clumps of shadow and color fill the streets, edges blurred like the rain is trying to wash them away. 

Yunho and Changmin are standing in the shelter of the overhanging roof of a convenience store, both rather inappropriately dressed not having anticipated the sudden thunderstorm. 

A plastic bag hurtles past them down the street and Yunho starts humming Katy Perry under his breath, trying to keep a firm grip on the squirming Yorkie in his arms and the packet of bread that didn't fit in their bags. 

"Waiting this out won't work," Yunho says, breaking off his tune and nudging Changmin with his elbow. 

Changmin sighs and adjusts his grip on the two, full plastic bags he's carrying. "Looks like it." 

The rain hits them like a wall and Yunho coughs in surprise. They're soaked within seconds, T-Shirts clinging and shoes squelching through the puddles forming in the cracks of the pavement. Yunho's wearing shorts again for god's sake and his legs are practically numb with cold. 

Koi continues to squirm as they trudge through the downpour, heads bent and shoulders hunched. 

The noise from the cars on the street seems to come from very far away, even with murky puddle water splashing onto the pavement and passersby with every larger-than-average car that drives past.

It's when a deafening clap of thunder tears through the muddled backdrop of noise and Yunho flinches and almost, sort of trips over his own feet that things start happening very quickly. 

Koi, finally sensing her chance, wriggles out of Yunho's loosening grip and leaps for freedom and the nearest puddle. 

"Did you _drop_ the fucking dog?" Changmin shouts, voice getting lost in the rain. 

All the noise swells briefly as another clap of thunder makes the ground tremble. It's enough for Yunho to kick himself back into gear and bolt after the Koi who is scampering happily into oncoming traffic. 

A black SUV, almost indiscernible in the rain and blurry light, is steadily speeding towards Koi who remains blissfully unbothered, slipping and sliding across the wet asphalt, black and brown fur rendering her practically invisible.  

It takes Yunho exactly three seconds to step out into the street and another five to launch himself at Koi.

His shoulder takes the brunt of the fall, left arm coming around to scoop the still unaware puppy against his chest as they both skid across the asphalt to the relative safety of the middle of the road. 

There's a brief hush that fills Yunho's lungs until it feels like he can't breathe and then all noise comes rushing back in a great wave that makes his eyes water. There's a shout, delayed through the noise of the cars and rain around him and Yunho sees Changmin's blurry outline frozen at the side of the street. 

The black SUV has disappeared into the night and Yunho stays curled up on the ground, limbs unresponsive and a bit numb with adrenaline. Koi laps apologetically at his chin. Her fur smells like exhaust fumes and near death experiences. 

Slowly the commands Yunho's brain is sending out start to actually register with his legs and he sits up, suddenly very,  _very_ aware of the pain blooming in his shoulder. 

Changmin's shouting again and it's making people stop and stare. 

A red Hyundai stops in front of him and a tiny old lady leans out of the window. "Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?" 

He waves her off with a smile and limps across the street to where Changmin's waiting on the curb, soaked and with an energy coming off him that makes the thunderclouds above them pale in comparison. 

The rain and sudden movement brings Yunho's attention to the bloody scrape that stretches from the ankle of his right leg up to his knee. 

In the watery yellow light from the surrounding streetlights and store windows, it looks a lot worse than it actually feels. Just a sharp stinging pain that hardly compares to the throbbing ache in his shoulder. 

"I got the dog," he says when he reaches Changmin, holding up a now rather docile Koi. 

The plastic bags with their shopping are lying abandoned at Changmin's feet, groceries spilling out onto the wet pavement. Yunho bends down to pick up the packet of bread that he had dropped but the wince he suppresses doesn't go unnoticed and Changmin's expression shutters. 

They set off again, Yunho struggling to keep up but also refusing to trail behind like some scolded kid. It was a calculated risk and he's not about to feel guilty about it. 

"It was a calculated risk," he says, raising his voice to be heard over the insistent rhythm of the rain. 

Changmin ignores him. 

As if to back him up Koi barks softly but one venom-filled glance from Changmin shuts her up pretty quickly. 

They spend the rest of the walk back to the apartment building in silence, the storm around them doing it's best to fill the canyon-like gap between them. 

 

Changmin's jamming the key into the lock of their apartment door when he finally speaks up. "Aren't you going to apologize?" 

Yunho's pride flares angrily and he says, "For what?" 

He watches as Changmin's shoulders tense and flex, shoulder blades standing out almost painfully through the soaked material of his shirt.

The door unlocks with a muffled click and Yunho follows Changmin inside. A mixture of pride, anger, and hurt making his head ache dully. 

He gets a brief glance of the dark hallway before getting pushed rather violently against the door. His injured shoulder twinges painfully and a gasp forces its way out of his throat without permission. 

Changmin crowds him against the door, his face a confusing mask of angles and shadows and _anger_. 

" _What_?" Yunho hisses, cradling a now trembling Koi closer to his chest as Changmin continues to glower. 

"You idiot. You complete and utter moron, I fucking--" the breath Changmin takes makes the air between them shudder, "--you could've  _died_. You  _idiot._ You stupid, impulsive fool. You almost died because of your dumb fucking hero complex--" 

Yunho stares at him. Changmin's pupils are blown and quivering, almost indiscernible in the half-darkness of the hallway.

"That's what this is about?" 

It's not exactly the most tactful thing to say but it's hard to think. The proximity to each other is making Yunho's skin burn, even with their clothes still soaked and a trembling and equally as wet puppy between them.

"Do you even know," Changmin says, tongue curling around the words like they physically pain him to speak out loud, "how fucking close that car came to hitting you?" 

"I--"

He presses closer, his own little thunderstorm crackling angrily above their heads. "You. Could. Have.  _Died_." 

Whatever Yunho means to say in reply gets lost somewhere in his throat as Changmin suddenly lurches forward and crashes their mouths together. 

It's, well, it's not exactly perfect. 

Yunho is pushed back against the door with the force of their collision, head banging against the unforgiving wood with a dull  _thud._

That, the underlying current of pain in his shoulder and the fact that Changmin's mouth feels like molten glass against his all adds up to Yunho not being able to breathe. Not that that seems to matter because he reaches up anyway, hand not quite finding Changmin's face and settling for grabbing his upper arm instead. 

He makes a half-hearted attempt at pushing Changmin away but it just sort of ends with him pulling him closer, vice-like grip contradicting or maybe mirroring the way his lips part a little, properly responding to the kiss for the first time since it started. 

Changmin makes a sound, or maybe Yunho does, it's honestly hard to tell but what is certain is Changmin pressing even closer, mouth hot and hands uncharacteristically greedy. 

That's also when Koi lets out a rather pleading whine from between them and some vaguely rational part of Yunho's brain comes back online. 

"Dog, dog, dog," he mutters against Changmin's mouth, too dizzy to form coherent sentences. 

Changmin pulls away, reluctance evident enough to make warmth spark along Yunho's spine. 

" _Fuck_ ," is all he says with a voice that stands in contrast to the angles of his face which have softened considerably. 

Koi, for one, looks thoroughly put out and Yunho lets her down. She scurries off without a backward glance and they're left in the darkened hallway, groceries forgotten by their feet and the air humming anxiously. 

"So, uhm," Yunho finally says when the silence becomes too suffocating, "that was...unexpected?"

Changmin, at least, has the decency to look sheepish. "Spur of the moment kind of thing," he replies, voice still not quite back to normal. 

"Right." 

There's a pause as Changmin seemingly gathers himself. 

"Seeing someone you, ah, _care for_ narrowly avoid death sort of does that to you." There is no misplaced fury behind the words now. "I," he shifts, stature becoming defensive, "fuck, this is gonna sound really gross and sentimental. I just-- if you keep this up-- I mean this is the second time this year that you've risked your life and I just, and this is selfish and I  _know_ , but, fuck, I'm not gonna let you just fucking die without me having kissed you at least once."

Yunho's brain, which had been in the process of rebooting, crashes. 

"Oh." 

"I've wanted this since I was 17 fucking years old, but I'm a coward and kind of stupid. Occasionally. Sometimes. So just, I don't know--"

"I like you," Yunho says in a great rush. 

They stare at each other and Yunho wants to scream because they're grown men and they're both handling all of this like they're back in kindergarten. 

"You  _like_ me?" 

"I," Yunho twists his hands in the air, miming his heart getting ripped out of his chest. 

" _Oh_." 

He lets his hands fall. 

"Why didn't you say anything?" 

"Why didn't you?" 

"Because--" Changmin starts but Yunho cuts him off. 

"--because you're a coward and kind of stupid. Occasionally. Sometimes," he smiles down at his sodden shoes. "Yeah. Me too." 

Changmin moves forward. Just a little, barely noticeable if it weren't for the fact that Yunho is painfully hyperaware of him. "You didn't do anything because you didn't want to jeopardize and potentially ruin our relationship?" 

Yunho straightens up a bit, meeting Changmin's searching gaze with an expression that he hopes answers all the questions Changmin isn't asking out loud. 

"Yeah."

"That's," Changmin pauses, "fair. I guess." 

Yunho nods, throat constricting. 

"I like you too. In case that wasn't, like, clear or something." 

Around them, the walls tremble as another crash of thunder cuts through the relative silence they had been in. 

"I figured what with the whole--"

Apparently done with talking Changmin takes a plunge and pushes into Yunho's personal space again, hands cupping Yunho's jaw with intent. 

The back of Yunho's head has another encounter with the door but this time Changmin whispers a rushed apology against his lips. 

They're both still thoroughly soaked, cold creeping under their clothes with a tenacity that not even shared body heat can compete with, but Yunho lets himself melt into the kiss all the same, aching shoulder or not this is what he's wanted for almost his entire adult life. 

Still a little stunned it takes Yunho a few seconds to kick himself into gear but when he does Changmin makes a sound somewhere in the back of his throat that makes the stinging scrape on his shin worth it. 

They stay like that for what feels like half an eternity, slowly picking each other apart until Yunho lets himself fall against the door completely, surrendering in a way that has Changmin cursing against his lips. 

Yunho distantly manages to wonder when the fuck Changmin became a good kisser and half makes up his mind to ask but then Changmin presses a thigh between his legs and  _okay._

_Okay._

"I--" Yunho starts, barely managing to stop himself from trailing off in a gasp. 

He has a very distinct (giddy) feeling of where this is heading, if Changmin's wandering hands are any indication and just-- o _kay_. 

He opens his mouth to try again, just so they're both on the same page but it doesn't really work out the way he planned and now there are figurative fucking sparks dancing up and down his spine and--

A loud, purposefully obnoxious bark tears through the strange little bubble they'd created and the string of expletives Changmin lets out clears some of the fog in Yunho's mind. 

"The dog," Yunho manages weakly, dredging up a disbelieving smile. 

"The fucking dog," Changmin echoes, letting his head thump down on Yunho's shoulder. 

Yunho peers over Changmin's tousled mop of hair and lets out an incredulous snort of laughter. "Oh God, how long has she been there." 

Changmin twists around at that and a fresh litany of curses falls from his lips.

Koi lets him finish in unimpressed silence. 

"Please-- _please_ tell me we're bringing her back tomorrow," Changmin says against Yunho's collarbone. 

 

They bring her back the next day. 

She's worth ₩185 000, but Yunho personally thinks it should be a lot more than that. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't steal people's dogs (or cats)  
> also writing dogs as a cat person is a whole fucking Experience, the last time I actually genuinely interacted with a dog was like two years ago 
> 
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